Worth It
by don't think about it
Summary: Kirsten and Sandy in The Showdown. I'm thinking oneshot, could become more if I have timeinspiration. Rating is for language.
1. Chapter 1

**_Now, I liked the way "The Showdown" went as much as the next person. But this is my take on the way the Julie/Kirsten conversation in the kitchen (which was brilliant) could have gone._**

"Wow. This…I mean, no offense, Kirsten, but I don't know what to say." Julie Cooper-Nichol's green eyes fastened on her blonde friend (step-daughter?), who smiled sardonically before tossing the rest of her vodka-and-orange juice down her throat. God. Her eyes were so sad. This was Kirsten Cohen, the woman she'd envied all her life, the woman who was _born to it_ and never gave her beauty and wealth and love a second glance. This was Kirsten _Nichol_, the woman she'd always had a sinking feeling that Jimmy would've preferred to marry.

"It's okay," said Kirsten painfully, twisting her diamond ring around her finger as she so often did. Julie took the opportunity to admire the ring.

"It's beautiful. He really bought you that on what he earned at the public defender's office?"

"Yeah." The response was wistful. "It was two and a half years after we were married, but that didn't matter." She laughed. "To tell you the truth, I kind of liked the plastic one."

"I had a plastic engagement ring once," Julie declared with a laugh. Kirsten's blue eyes—so dead lately—sparkled slightly as she turned to Julie.

"Really?"

"Yeah. My first boyfriend, Chris, back in tenth grade bought me one when we were at the mall one day. It was cute, too," she added with another, slightly rueful laugh. "Not as pretty as the one Jimmy bought, but I have to say—no offense meant or anything—nicer than the one Cal bought me."

"I never really liked Dad's taste in jewels," agreed Kirsten. "Julie? What did you do with it…your first engagement ring?" Julie gave her a slightly sad smile.

"I still have it. I probably should've given it back, I guess; I mean, I dumped him and he needed the money. But…I liked it. And I guess I never thought that our separation would really be permanent, you know? I thought he'd somehow make all the money back and be my perfect husband again." The phrase, "perfect husband" suddenly caused Kirsten's small smile to vanish.

"I just don't know…how we let it slip away. Sandy and me…this isn't a marriage," she said flatly. "And I don't know if it can ever be a marriage again."

"You can't _break up_," said Julie firmly. "You're _Sandy-and-Kirsten_. If you two don't love each other enough to make it, marriage as an institution is doomed."

"We do…still love each other," was Kirsten's uncertain response. "At least…I still love him. So much. And he tells me he loves me, and you know, I want to believe him. So much…I just…I don't even know." Julie looked at her hands and began to fiddle with her own ring.

"Wow. I guess, well, I mean, you two always seemed to have the perfect marriage. You were always so lucky." Kirsten smiled a bittersweet smile.

"Julie, remember when Jimmy lost all that money and you said that I was lucky to have a job? And then you corrected yourself and said that I'm 'a very hard worker'?" She nodded. "Well, we weren't just lucky. We worked on our marriage, and we haven't in so long, and it's falling apart." Suddenly Kirsten looked up, straight into her stepmother's eyes, and Julie could see tears pooling in the brilliantly blue eyes of the woman she'd always wanted to be.

"It doesn't have to fall apart," said Julie softly, tentatively putting her arms around Kirsten. She'd gotten so thin recently! Kirsten had always been thinner than Julie, but now Julie swore she could feel every bone in the other woman's body, and relaxed her grip, terrified of breaking her.

"I…I don't know how to keep it from breaking," came Kirsten's voice in a choky response, as she pulled Julie tighter to herself. "I _do _love him, and I don't want to lose him, but…I think…I already have."

"No," whispered Julie softly against her stepdaughter's cheek, which was becoming suspiciously wet. "Kirsten…he loves you, more than anything; I know he does. You just have to go to him." Kirsten broke away abruptly.

"I can't." Her eyes were tear-stained, and there was mascara running down her nose with the tears.

"Yes, you can. You have to…unless he doesn't mean more to you than your pride, than your vodka." Julie held the bottle in her hand, feeling its weight—or lack thereof. At her words, Kirsten's eyes filled with fresh tears.

"He won't want me anymore. I've killed it. Julie, he doesn't love me! Not really…he just pretends. And I still love him. All I'm going to do…is make him face that fact, make…me…face that fact. And then we'll be over, for real, and I won't be able to deal with it. And, oh, Julie, I'm going to hurt him. I'm going to hurt him as I never have before, ever…I can't do that to him. I just can't tell him…that even though we never did anything…Carter took his place." Disbelief and sadness filled Julie's face as she leaned over and gently kissed the tearstained cheek, tasting the salty tears on Kirsten's face.

"You've been married twenty years. You owe it to that marriage…to Sandy…to yourself…to at least try. Believe me, you don't want to throw it away." There was a tone of regret to Julie's voice that caused Kirsten to look at her, really look at her for confirmation.

"Jimmy?" she asked softly.

"I miss him every day," said Julie in a detached monotone. "I regret losing him _every day._ Don't make that mistake. He still wants you in his life; he still wants to make you happy; he still loves you more than anything. _Don't throw it away._ Please, honey, try. For my failed marriage, if not for yourself." She silently put her arms around Kirsten again, and then turned and walked away.

"Sandy," said Julie softly as she saw him, looking defeated and dejected as he drank ice water by the pool.

"Julie," he said in greeting, raising his glass.

"Are you drinking water?" she asked suspiciously.

"Yeah. Amazing what your wife's problems with vodka will do to depression-drinking." His voice was so sad—almost bitter. Sandy Cohen didn't do "bitter" very well. Looking up, he caught Julie's eyes. "I'm afraid we might be breaking up. She just…keeps pushing me away. I love her—so much, it's driving me crazy to even be thinking these thoughts—but if she doesn't want me in her life, I don't want to force myself on her."

"She does want you in her life," said Julie, taking a seat next to Sandy, reaching out and rubbing his leg gently. "She just doesn't know how to talk about it. And she's drinking to numb the pain, which isn't helping. I never noticed how much she drank, but I guess she has as long as I've known her."

"Me, too," said Sandy sadly. "She's always been a borderline alcoholic. Kirsten…she just tries too hard, you know? She wants so much to be everything to everyone, to be perfect, that she needs a vice. Something to do when she's bored or depressed. She goes through phases; I think she's had every addiction known to man at one point or another. She was addicted to food at one point—that didn't last long, because she went up a size or two, and perfect women always have perfect figures. Then she was addicted to _undereating_, and she smoked at one point—legal things and then more illegal things, and there was a brief sex addiction, too. I didn't mind that one so much. But it always came back to the booze, because it was easy, because she's never thought that it was bad for her."

"Yeah," sighed Julie. "Kind of makes me want a scotch on the rocks myself." Sandy gave her an if-looks-could-kill look that stopped her.

"Believe me, you don't want to go there." They sat in silence for a few minutes.

"If you don't want to lose her," Julie started, "I think you need to go to her. Apologize for the fugitive ex-girlfriend, Becky or whatever her name was. _Tell _her you worship the ground under her feet. She needs that right now."

"She won't listen to me. I've been trying. She won't listen to me."

"Well, fucking try harder," said Julie harshly. "You _love _her; I know you do, and she loves you. Don't lose her. I mean, if you lose her…I think she'll be lost for good. From all of us. And don't give me that innocent look. If you lose her, you'll be lost to the world, too. It doesn't make you weak to need her," she said, softening. "But you do, and denying it is so—fucking—stupid. Go. Now. She's in the kitchen, drinking spiked orange juice. _Tell her how much she means to you_, because I still don't know if she has the strength to tell you…that she loves you so much. She's afraid she's going to lose you."

"I think that this is all very interesting, coming from a woman whose marriage is falling apart, who _isn't_ at home following her own advice."

"Yeah, well, I've already lost the marriage I cared about. I just hope Cal waits till the end of the month to dump me." As she walked to her car, Sandy admired the woman who'd just left his house. He'd never really liked Julie Cooper; to him, she'd always epitomized everything he hated about Newport Beach. But just as Newport was growing on him, so was Julie. Or maybe she'd just grown up a lot since the end of her marriage to Jimmy. Either way, he was beginning to find even the dresses she wore more entertaining than obnoxious, he observed as he observed her dress. Once she'd safely left, Sandy picked up his water glass and started towards the house.

He found Kirsten exactly where Julie had said she was, in the kitchen, staring at Julie's unfinished orange juice. Just as her perfectly-manicured fingers reached for the glass, she felt his hands around her waist.

"We need to talk." Here it was. He'd finally given up pretending. For the first time, she was glad that she'd stopped depending on him to "make her feel less alone." Maybe it would make losing him slightly easier. She turned around in his arms and saw that face, those eyes…Nope. This was going to kill her.

"Don't say it," she said softly. _Don't tell me 'cause it hurts_.

"I love you, Kirsten. I love you more than anything and I don't care what's going on, I'm not losing you." What?

"It's not that easy, Sandy," she heard her voice say. "You _hurt _me with the whole Rebecca thing. Our marriage…had been strained since the boys left, and then you went to _her_. I don't even know how many times I told you that you were making a choice, that you picked _her_ over me, that…you left me alone on Valentine's Day. The one day of the year that you're supposed to devote to the one you love, you spent with _her_. You can't just say you're sorry and expect it all to go away." But please don't stop trying. I love you, Sandy; I can't lose you. I want it to go back to how it used to be; I just don't know how.

"I know," he said heavily. "Believe me, if I could go back in time…there's so much that I would fix. I know that it's mostly my fault. But, Kirsten, it's your fault, too. _You _stopped speaking to _me_ over the summer. Whether I deserved it or not, that was all you. You stopped coming to me the way a wife comes to her husband. Again, I might have deserved it, but still. If you don't want to be with me anymore, hey, that's your choice." He paused, considering the weighted silence. "But you'll break my heart." Finally, Sandy chanced a look at her. She was crying.

"Mine, too."

"So…can we try? Please? For our hearts' sake?"

"You hurt me, Sandy. Don't forget that. But…but it would hurt worse to lose you." Slowly, tentatively, she reached her arms around his neck and pulled him close. His breath on her neck. His heart thumping against hers. His arms wrapping themselves more tightly around her body. Kirsten shut her eyes. They couldn't undo what was done. But…they always said, what doesn't kill you, makes you stronger. They couldn't lose their marriage. As she felt his body against hers, she knew that it was still worth it. It would always be worth it, as long as he loved her, as long as she loved him, as long as they were willing to try.


	2. Chapter 2

**_A little bit shorter, a bit lighter. Just because I hated the idea of their missing Seth's launch._**

"If we hurry, we can still make it on time," said Sandy, glancing at his watch doubtfully. Kirsten came from inside the walk-closet, fumbling with the zipper on her navy blue dress.

"Sorry," she said distractedly, as she awkwardly tried to grab the pull. Slightly unsure of himself, Sandy stepped over and silently did up the zipper for her.

"Thanks," Kirsten told him quietly. He was still nervous, but—he kissed her. And she kissed him back! Not passionately, not as she would've last year…but she didn't push him away from her, nor did she stand there and just let him feel like a jerk, so it was a start.

"So, Seth…has a comic book." Kirsten laughed lightly as she slipped her feet into backless high-heeled sandals.

"Yup," he replied.

"And he and Summer and Zach are in on it," she continued. Sandy snickered a bit.

"Oh, yeah."

"You think this is gonna go smoothly?" He grinned mischievously.

"Not a chance in hell. I wouldn't miss it for the world." They had fallen back into their "safe" positions, the endearingly goofy guy and his perfect wife. This was good, this was normal…Sandy only hoped that Kirsten was really back, and not faking it.

The party didn't go well, to say the least. Both adult Cohens could barely keep from bursting into laughter (or tears of horror) at the antics of their son. Oh, there would be punishments; they would make sure of that. But it was amusing.

"You looked beautiful tonight, did I tell you that?" murmured Sandy as he helped Kirsten undo her zipper.

"Thanks," she said, casually letting her dress fall to the floor. He gulped. She _definitely_ hadn't been wearing much under that dress. He started mentally tallying the amount of time since they'd had sex. When he realized he had to count in weeks…months…rather than days…

"Good night, Sandy," she said sleepily, having changed into a camisole and pair of boxers. He sighed. It was going to take more than one conversation to get them back to normal. They were really going to have to try.

Try. As Sandy was learning, it was easier said than done. He glanced at his wife, who lay next to him, her chest gently rising and falling, her tousled blonde hair falling slightly in her face, and tried to take comfort in their talk of the day before. Somehow, though, it wasn't quite possible. Sweet sentiment was calming at night, but then the morning comes, and they actually had to act on their words. Sandy found himself begging silently that Kirsten would wake up the woman she had been at that time last year, upset, yes, about Theresa and her dad's marriage, but confident in her own marriage. Suddenly, impulsively, he leaned forward, pushed the hair from her face, and kissed her. Her eyes opened drowsily.

"Good morning, beautiful," he said softly. Kirsten scrunched up her eyes and stretched, her slim body looking even thinner as she raised her arms.

"Hi," she said sleepily, opening her eyes again. A slow smile began to spread across Sandy's face.

"I don't think I've told you yet today how much I love you." She tried to relax as he leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the lips. This was what she wanted, her husband's love and undivided attention, yet tension and anxiety coursed through her body. He was kissing her again, slowly, lazily, lovingly, but suddenly all she wanted was to pull away.

Noticing his wife's lack of enthusiasm, Sandy broke the kiss. He took a moment to study Kirsten's face, which seemed embarrassed and apologetic.

"Are you okay, baby?" he asked softly.

"I'm fine," was the automatic response. Then—"No, not really—I don't know—it just...feels...funny." He sighed heavily, and her hand went instinctively to stroke his cheek.

"Don't worry. It's just...been awhile. And it's early morning, and it was a long night, what with Seth...and Zach...and Summer." The delicate pads of her fingers were caressing his jaw.

"I won't kiss you if you don't want to be kissed."

"Oh, believe me. I want to be kissed. It's been long enough," she said with a teasing laugh, but there was enough edge to her voice that it was unsettling. "But...yesterday was just a start. There are a lot of other things we need to get...out there." Kirsten looked her husband straight in the eyes as she continued her fondling of his face. "And you're not going to be happy with me...but I hope you can forgive me, anyway." Sandy's own hand suddenly went to his wife's, and he gently pulled it away.

"What's wrong?" She sighed.

"Carter and I...we had a thing," Kirsten told him carefully. As she saw the light in Sandy's face dim, she hurried to explain. "We didn't do anything—ever. He kissed me lightly good-bye, but not in a way I wouldn't kiss a relative. But...there was an emotional attachment, and I...he never, he _could _never mean as much to me as you do, but..." It was hard, seeing the pain in his eyes. Just finish, as quickly as possible, and beg for forgiveness. "I was feeling insecure, and I was still hurt, an-and mad at you for the whole Rebecca Bloom thing that it just...he was there, and you have so much in common, and I could _talk _to him, and he'd never hurt me...Oh, Sandy, I'm so sorry." Kirsten almost wanted to die at the dead look on his face, which had just moments ago been so alive.

"Yeah, well," he said, his voice weighted with emotion. "I've got no right to hold it against you...I probably should've told you, but I didn't think it was important, and you were already so upset..." She pulled away from him.

"You slept with her."

"No. Never." Now it was Sandy's turn to stroke her face. "But I did kiss her. Once. She kissed me, really; I just...let it happen." Kirsten pushed his hand away. "Kirsten. Twenty-three years ago, she and I were together. We thought we were going to spend our lives together. Then one day she was gone. She never even said good-bye. I never got any closure on...on _us_. I mean, then I met you, and it was the best thing that ever happened to me, and I love you more than the world, but...I never got to say good-bye to her; she just up and left. She lived in my mind, you know, getting fainter as the years went by, but always in my mind as young and independent and the girl I almost married. She and I never really broke up. Kirsten...before you hate me again...think about it. We went to Jimmy Cooper's wedding. We lived next door to him for ten years. You watched him grow into middle age as someone else's husband. You two closed the book. Rebecca and I never finished the story."

Kirsten looked at her hands. What he was saying made sense, but she didn't want to admit it. He loved her. He'd only ever wanted her. She didn't want to think about his having loved anyone before her, having touched any girl before her...just imagining the two of them as young lovers was enough to break her heart. She felt vaguely hypocritical at the Jimmy reference; she remembered so many occasions on which she'd mentioned her first love, and now she had a semblance of how much they must have hurt Sandy. But still.

"Kirsten, baby," said Sandy finally, breaking the silence. "I promise, she only means the past to me. I just needed closure. Please...understand that. I love you so much more."

"How do I know?" she asked, her words unsure but steady. "I mean, you must've told her that, too."

"Because," he said, impassioned. "Because I've grown up so much since I was twenty-two, and emotions that I wasn't even—_capable—_of feeling then, are how I feel about you. You are the only woman I ever want to love. We've made, together, the only world I ever want to know. Please," his eyes begged. "Please, Kirsten, please believe me. Please."

"I believe you," Kirsten finally told him. She suddenly, impulsively leaned forward and kissed him, warmly, playfully, intensely. He looked at her, surprised, when she pulled her face away.

"We got that out of the way," she shrugged. "Now I feel like kissing." Suddenly, they heard the sound of a door banging downstairs.

"Seth," sighed Sandy.

"We need to deal with him," stated Kirsten, rolling her eyes slightly. She got up and walked over to the closet to get her robe.

"Can you get mine, too, baby?"

"Sure," she said, tossing him the fuzzy blue robe. As he put it on, he caught her looking at him.

"I'm glad we had our little…discussion," she said.

"Me, too."

"I really love you, you know."

"I love you."

"Now let's go deal with our crazy son." A smile spread across Sandy's face.

"You're on."


	3. Chapter 3

**_Just the end. It's a little bit--I don't know--but this is how I pictured the story ending. Thanks for all the feedback._**

"Dad, Mommy...hi," said Seth sheepishly. "That color looks terrific on you, Dad, you know; it reminds me of...your dress from last night, Mom, which I should have told you looked absolutely amazing, not that I was surprised, I mean, you are the most beautiful woman I've ever met; I..."

"Seth, stop filibustering," Sandy told him sternly.

"Dad, come on, I know I'm in trouble. It was wrong, but hey, you guys don't want to be up yet. Look at Mom! She looks exhausted—beautiful, Mommy, but exhausted. Go to bed. Get another hour of sleep or something. Ryan and I will get you breakfast—right, Ryan?" Seth's voice had risen nearly an octave within the course of his "filibuster." Ryan regarded him with amusement.

"Hey, keep me out of your bargaining. You were the one in the fight, not me. For once."

Seth's face fell, and his voice was defeated.

"Yeah, well, what's my punishment? I guess I'm grounded, not that it really matters. You know, if you really wanted to punish me, you'd make me...go out and stuff...you know...keep me from sulking over Summer." He shook his head. "She's the only girl I've ever loved, and you know, Dad, I'm a one-woman kind of man. She's the only one I'll ever love. I mean, I thought that Anna...and Alex...but there's no one else for me but Summer, and she hates me now. So, yeah, my social life from now on is going to be hell; there's actually no point in punishing me. I lost her. That's punishment enough." He shook his head. "The only woman in the world for me is never going to speak to me again, and you think that whatever you're going to do to me is going to hurt worse."

Kirsten gazed at her boy, tears beginning to pool, unshed, in her eyes. When had her little baby gotten so—so old?

For Sandy, Seth's words hung in the air, taunting him, making his heart break. Like father, like son...he knew how much Seth was hurting.

"First, you're going to call her," Sandy said, struggling to keep his voice steady. "You are going to apologize, ask for her forgiveness, and then you are going to give her time." He drew a breath and instinctively drew his wife closer to him. "As for your punishment, you're right. I know Summer, and I know that she can punish you much more than I'll ever be able to." Sandy offered his son a small, ironic smile. "You might still be a little kid to me, but you love that girl as a man loves a woman, and all I can say is 'Welcome.' But, Seth—after all we've taught you—after everything that's happened to Ryan—don't use your fists to prove a point. Ever." Then his arms went around Seth. Kirsten followed, a split-second behind. The three Cohens embraced as Seth cried. Ryan stood by awkwardly until Sandy pulled him over. He gingerly put his arms around Sandy and Kirsten and reached around Kirsten's neck to tousle Seth's hair.

"So," said Sandy when the four broke apart. "Here's the phone. Call Summer; call Zach. You owe him an apology, too, you know." Seth sighed.

"I'm going to go to my room to do it, okay?" Kirsten nodded.

"I love you, sweetie," she told him, taking his hand. Seth rubbed her knuckles, his fingers grazing her ring.

"I love you, too, Mom." He observed his father, an unspoken message passing between their eyes. "I love you both." They watched as Seth trudged to the stairs.

"We raised a good kid," said Kirsten chokily.

"Yeah," agreed Sandy, stroking her hair. She turned to look at him. "We did, didn't we?"

"Do...um, do you guys want coffee?" offered Ryan. Kirsten shook her head.

"I think we're going to follow Seth's advice, go back to bed," she said. "But thanks, honey." She gave him a smile. "You're not a bad kid, yourself." Then she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek for the first time. She'd kissed Seth so many times, but there had always been something...manly...about Ryan that had kept her from kissing him. Today, though, it was okay. "See you later."

With her words, Sandy and Kirsten headed toward the stairs themselves. His hand found the small of her back and rubbed it gently through the silk robe and thin camisole.

"I love you," he told her, for what seemed to be the millionth time. After witnessing Seth's pain, Sandy was reminded of how important his wife was to him, of how close he'd come to losing her forever. She responded by wrapping her own arm around his waist and pulling him to her, her hand slipping over his hip.

"I love you."

They walked silently into their bedroom. It hadn't changed, thought Kirsten, through any of their issues. Not when the boys were gone and they were barely speaking, not when Sandy was saying good-bye to the memory of Rebecca, not when she was running to Carter...throughout all the relationship problems they'd had in the past year, and even before that...she remembered the Heights and Rachel and the time he was angry with her for not mentioning that Jimmy had kissed her...still, their room had been a constant. The bed had been a constant, whether they were facing each other, at peaceful bliss with the world, whether they were on top of each other, having passionate sex, whether they were facing away from each other, secrets and pain between them, whether one of them wasn't there...the room remained the same. They could go back to it always, and the sad memories, though they didn't disappear, were not what came to mind. They could do this. She turned slightly to face him.

"I think...we're almost there," she said, carefully considering her words.

"What do you mean?" asked Sandy.

"Back to normal," Kirsten explained slowly. "This is going to work...I know it is. It's going to be okay. We're almost there." Her left hand ran gently through his dark hair; her right went to the sash around his waist holding his robe in place.

Sandy stood transfixed. He didn't want to move, so terrified was he of doing something wrong. It had been a long time since she had been interested in the little things, kissing and caressing and the like...since their anniversary, he realized, months ago, and even then, it hadn't been the same...not the way it was before. He felt her gently tug on his sash, which came loose with not too much effort. She followed by sliding her hand inside his robe and reaching around to his back. He could barely breathe.

"Well?" said Kirsten quietly, privately. "Aren't you going to touch me?" Sandy slowly tugged on her sash. The neatly tied bow came apart, and his hands went to her waist for a moment. Then he leaned forward and kissed her. Her mouth was warm. Neither pulled away as they freed their hands and let their robes drop. Instantly, their hands were on each other again. Sandy was still afraid; irrationally, perhaps, but he was terrified. It was even scarier than the moment before he'd slept with her the first time. Now there seemed to be more weight on right now, and each movement required intense contemplation. Her hands were in his hair, both of them now, and she was planting feather-kisses across his face. He took the hem of her camisole in his hands and pulled it gently over her head, blonde hair spilling over the neckline, slipping, sliding everywhere. Kirsten looked him in the face. Her own face was written with so many emotions—desire, he was glad to see, but a little apprehension at the (what, almost four months?) time since they'd last undressed each other, and _love_, in vast quantities. He was reassured. Their hands both moved to each other's waistbands, slowly, gently pushing, pulling, until they stood before each other without any clothes.

Suddenly, Kirsten broke the careful, deliberate motions and surprised Sandy with a firm, passionate kiss. She pushed him backwards until the backs of his legs hit the bed and he fell onto his back. Then she was on top of him, her mouth moving down his chest.

"I want you," she mumbled, and it felt almost as good as her "I love you" had minutes before. They were reaching for the last piece of their marriage, cast aside while they had considered all of the emotional aspects of their life, but now in the forefront.

"You...are...incredible," Sandy breathed, arching his back instinctively as her kisses moved farther down. "You _feel_...incredible."

"Good," Kirsten said with the mischievous smile he'd missed so much.

Some fifteen minutes later, they both lay on the bed, heartbeats slowing down. They had finished the last step of "Normal." Normal. It would have to be redefined now; there was no going back to last year. But now...the last hurdle, the final test...however they wanted to call it, their marriage had no more "making up" to do any longer. The only tests that faced them now were the average, every-day ones, which they silently vowed not to let build up again.

Kirsten leaned over and kissed her husband affectionately, aiming for his cheek but missing and getting his jaw. He smiled. It was definitely worth it.


End file.
